


Something From Nothing.

by Mitooshka



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Comfort, Fluff, Hurt, Love, M/M, Marriage, even the biggest grumps need reassurance, flustered Cullen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 09:26:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4661430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mitooshka/pseuds/Mitooshka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We bring forth pieces of ourselves, in the hopes that these fallen off bits will fix the next person who has less than you do.”<br/>- K. Kazik. (tumblr: these-chains-are-daisies).</p><p>// After Halamshiral, the Inquisition receives marriage requests but not for the Inquisitor, but rather the Commander of its forces. Khalil is less than thrilled, and so is Cullen. Secrets and promises are blurted, and in the fire they find solace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something From Nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> This was done to the song 'Black Water' by Of Monsters & Men. 
> 
> I thought the idea of Cullen being the center of attention for a lot of ladies being comical and somewhat sad as well. Though my Inquisitor's romance is not canon, I can only assume that if they had kept Cullen's romance as being bi, there would be quite a lot of scandal and sad moments in relation of Cullen having influence and afluence in terms of his family and his position and the idea of having a family.

  
  
     “It is quite astounding the amount of letters we have received after Halamshiral.” Josephine smiles up at the Inquisitor, her quill held firmly between her fingers and ink stains dotting her sleeve. Leliana leans against the desk, her own eyes sparkling in amusement.  
  
  
     “It seems the Inquisitor has made a positive impression on the nobility, all the better to gather their loyalty and-”  
  
  
     “Exploit it?” Cullen’s voice enters the room and all three figures turn to look at him. He looks flushed from the chill air outside and he rubs his hands together to try and warm them.   
  
  
     “You make it sound like such a bad thing, they are after all, exploiting _us_ for their own good favor.” Leliana says, smiling as she turns back to Josephine and Khalil, “honestly, think how many of them must seem to know they are in bed with the Inquisition.”  
  
  
     “I don’t want anyone in my bed, except for a few.” Khalil pipes up, his dark eyes blinking at the Spymaster.   
  
  
     Leliana can’t help but chuckle and Josephine explains, “no, the figure of speech means that they are in cohorts with us.”  
  
  
     The elf feels foolish and ducks his head slightly as Cullen comes up to them and places a now-warm hand, on the small of Khalil’s back. The Inquisitor tries not to jump at the contact but the flinch is noticeable and Leliana once again grows amused.   
  
  
     “Well I for one disliked Halamshiral, all those fluffed up nobles waltzing around as if the only thing that is important in the world is the color of their slippers.” Cullen shakes his head and sets down a stack of papers, “these are the forms you requested and supplies list from some of those who have pledged themselves to our cause. We are coming along nicely...even at the expense of having to go to the Winter Palace.”   
  
  
     “Actually, it is quite interesting you mentioned the Winter Palace and the nobles...many of these letters are requests for marriage-” Josephine starts and holds up her own stack of papers.  
  
  
     “What for the Inquisitor, surely Josephine you haven’t-” Cullen starts and its the first time Khalil has noticed how irked he looks at the idea of nobles taking an interest in the him. Only Josephine cuts him off and her brows are drawn together, but still there is a small grin on her face.  
  
  
     “If you did so kindly let me finish, Commander, these letters are actually for you.”  
  
  
     “For me! That is- do these nobles not- it is preposterous!” Cullen, with his furred shoulders, looks like a ruffled raven. He draws himself up to his full height which greatly dwarfs Khalil and he says through clenched teeth, “I would like for you to politely  decline their invitations.”  
  
  
       “Of course Commander, I had no intention of-”   
  
  
     But Khalil blurts out before he has time to think about his actions and says, “are you sure?”  
  
  
     Cullen seems to look at the elf like he had grown a second pair of ears, and deep in those amber eyes Khalil can see..fear, and almost a spark of horror. “Inquisitor, I am quite sure- are you suggesting-...I’m sorry I have...business to tend to.” And he turns quickly and leaves the room.  
  
  
     Khalil blinks, standing in front of Josephine’s desk and with Leliana at his side, both looking just as concerned and confused as he felt. He turns to the desk and says quietly, “could I have those letters, Josephine?”   
  
  
     The Antivan nods and quietly hands them over. Khalil couldn’t read very well but he knew Dorian did, so he would bring the letters to him. He gives a brief look over at Leliana and she turns her gaze from him as he walks out of the room.   
  
  


* * *

  
  
     Cullen’s head reeled, pounding and making him feel lightheaded and awful. He sits on his bed, his armor discarded in favour of a red shirt and black breeches. Cullen touches the material and realized how bold the color was for him, considering the fact that his wardrobe consisted of very plain beiges and browns.   
  
  
     But…  
  
  
     But the Inquisitor had said red looked nice on him, said he liked him in brighter colors because he seemed like such a bright person. Cullen was always surprised at how very little from the elf came out and how much of an impact it had on the people around him. He was small and quiet and when he did open his mouth, it came out harsh and loud, loud, loud.  
  
  
     Cullen runs his hands through his hair and rubs at the back of his neck; his Lyrium withdrawal suddenly seemed worse, suddenly everything seemed a lot darker than it had been and it was all because of those stupid letters.   
  
  
     He gets up, wondering if he should just finish any left over work and go to sleep.  
  
  
     “Lady Fortescue, barely eighteen summers, asks for your hand in marriage at the behest of her mother. Madam Pouvoir, recently had her husband die in the Civil War in the Exhalted Plains, she is twenty-five summers old, rather pretty in the eyes but grim in the face.”   
  
  
     Cullen freezes as he hears Khalil’s voice below him and as he reads out the names, he gets closer and closer and Cullen hears him climbing the ladder to his sleeping loft. The elf gets up with ease, all nimble limbs and he stands with the stack of letters that had been on Josephine’s desk.   
  
  
     “Khalil what is-”  
  
  
     “Surprisingly Josephine’s younger sister and cousin are on here, the Montilyets have taken a fancy to you it seems. Must have been when I told Josephine’s sister I didn’t have a want for what was between her legs, probably threw her off a little bit. Now let’s not forget sweet little Lady Kasuverte, her daughter is seventeen summers, hardly had time to bloom her tits let alone get married! Oh and old, Toubleau, the woman is old enough to be your mother and still-”  
  
  
     “What is the meaning of this?” Cullen’s voice seems to startle Khalil out of his trash talking and the elf looks up at him calmly, cocking a dark brow.  
  
  
     “I’m simply listing off the lovely ladies that seem to be after your toned arse, of course I can’t read so I got Dorian to do the reading for me.” Khalil explains and walks straight up to Cullen, shoving the papers at his chest, “marry one of them.”  
  
  
     The commander seems to sputter for a moment, gathering the papers into his hands and looking at them briefly; names and dates fluttered by his eyes and he had to close them and pinch the bridge of his nose. “Marry them- I don’t understand, why should I marry one of them?”  
  
  
      “Because it’s what you people do, don’t you? To strengthen alliances and so on, may as well considering you’re the _Commander of the Inquisition_.” He emphasizes the last three words, looking at him with those sharp, black eyes. Khalil’s shoulders are hunched, his hands curled into fists as if he holds the weight and anger of the world in his body. His face has grown darker as he looks from Cullen to the floor.   
  
  
     Cullen himself grows steadily more angry as the meaning of his words sink in, he throws the papers to the floor, “I have no intention of marrying any of these women! Why would I, I don’t have anything to offer them and what in the world would I want from them!”   
  
  
     “A family!”   
  
  
     Those two little words cut Cullen so deeply that he had to take a step back. He stared at the elf and saw that Khalil slowly sunk into himself and it was like one of those fiery explosions that Dorian sets off; he seemed to absolutely turn to a smoldering fire of fury.   
  
  
     “I can’t give you what they can! There is no magical spell, no transitionary magic or potion to let me become a woman and a noble at that! I can’t give you children and heirs and keep your human line going, I can’t do any of those things. I’m just...I’m just a nobody!” Khalil’s sentences made Cullen flinch and all of a sudden he felt guilty if he had made Khalil believe he ever wanted those things. Though...perhaps he had at one time or another but that was before everything; before the Templars, the Chantry, the nightmares and terrors, before the Inquisition and before he met the Inquisitor.   
  
  
     He stood in shock as Khalil’s body heaved from the exertion of his anger, “I never...I had never meant for you to ever feel like you didn’t have those things or rather you couldn’t give me them. Khalil, I had _never_ wanted to…” Cullen stops himself and he steps closer to the Inquisitor who  has squeezed his eyes shut and Cullen could see thick tears building on his lashes.   
  
  
     He gathered the lost elf into his arms and hugged him tightly, one arm around his waist and the other around his shoulders with a hand petting his hair. He didn’t know when he had become this outwardly affectionate but he realizes, some people need it.   
  
  
     “You are not  a nobody, you never were...you are the Inquisitor and you strike inspiration into those you command, you are a loyal man, a strong fighter, a soft-hearted friend, you are a faithful believer in your Gods and you are someone whom I love very much.” Cullen’s voice is soft and soothing and it washes over the now, hiccuping elf with ease.   
  
  
     They both stand there and Cullen waits for the elf’s shaking to stop before he pipes up, “...I’m not a Lavellan.”  
  
  
     “Hm?” Comes the response.   
  
  
        Khalil pulls back and wipes his tear-stained cheeks, “I’m not a Lavellan, I never was. My clan traveled in Tevinter and Saharron most of the time but when the trouble with the Qunari and other mages started and the Dalish rebellions, my clan moved to northern Fereldan. I was never a Lavellan, they were but my family cast me out from their family circle after...after...something happened, but when I came here and people asked my name it was the only one I knew.” Khalil looks up at the commander, eyes large and frightened, “I don’t have a last name.”  
  
  
       Cullen lets his hands come to stroke his cheeks and his fine jaw, rough fingers feeling over the black vallaslin as he waited a moment before he said, “that’s alright, you can have mine.”  
  
  
        The Inquisitor’s own hands come to meet Cullen’s and he holds them there, feeling the warmth and careful safety of the much larger man. But his eyes widen at the words he hears and his mouth drops open in a slight show of shock (though the internal shock he feels is greater), “w-what?”  
  
  
         “I was scared, back in Josephine’s study, that you wanted me to marry someone because you didn’t think...you did not seem to want this as much as I do. Inquisitor- Khalil, I want this more than you know. I have waited ages for someone like you to come and...it doesn’t matter, what matters is I want you to want me as long as you can. After this, all of this, ends I want to be with you whatever that may entail. I do not need a family, I need you.”   
  
  
       His face is truthful, his brown eyes soft in the paleness of the evening and Khalil can see the lines around his eyes and the way the scar on his lip seems to twitch in the beginning of a smile. He sees this and understands that Cullen is telling the truth.   
  
  
      Their lives, as Inquisitor and Commander did not always mean certainty, but it didn’t mean they had to be doomed to a life of unhappiness as well.   
  
  
      “....Are you sure? I mean Madam Pouvoir does have a decently nice set of tits.”   
  
  
      “Why must you always ruin these moments?”  
  
  
       “ _You_ just asked _me_ to marry you, what do you expect?” Khalil’s face turns into one of slightly stoney amusement and Cullen can’t help but breath and exasperated sigh.   
  
  
       “Maker take me and smite me, I have most definitely sinned.”   
  
  
       “Well...not yet, but I can tell you that I have a half hour before I have to meet Bull at the tavern.”  
  


* * *

  
  
     The next day Josephine finds a letter on her desk addressed to her and opens it, inside there is a hastily written note in what seems to be Dorian’s handwriting.   
  
  
_By order of the Inquisitor, any letters regarding the Commander’s hand in marriage should be redirected to the Inquisitor and will be promptly burned._


End file.
